The Smile She Wore When it All Fell Down
by LazyWriterGirl
Summary: Mona lives for and loves only one person now. 2nd piece in my Smileverse, though they are not meant to be read in any certain order. Just know that whichever order you choose to read them in, they offer insight into parts of each other. Like soulmates. Very heavy T for dark situations and possibly disturbing imagery.


**Disclaimer: Just like the snacks I would eat on the playground at recess, I don't own PLL. Like, at all.**

**Companion piece to Stop Awhile and Smile For Me because I can. So there.**

_The Smile She Wore When it All Fell Down_

* * *

_Three years prior…_

It was Stockholm syndrome both ways (she'd first captured the girl who had then captured her heart for a time before giving up her own), an arsenic attraction that evolved into obsession. Venom dripped from their mouths with every loving word, every murmured vow on sweat-dampened pillows. Mona felt it when she looked at her fiancée, when they kissed, when they fucked. She didn't see the point in using any other expression to explain what they did in the privacy of their bedroom. They fucked like any other pair of animals in the world, end of story. A frilly, romance novel term wouldn't change that.

"I owe it to them… I have to tell them, don't I?" The brunette held her breath beside Mona as the smaller woman's hand ran up and down her bare thigh.

"If you want," Mona said complacently. She honestly couldn't have cared less if her fiancée told her best friends about them. It didn't matter to her who knew, as long as _she_ was informed about it last. Mona could feel the long, lithe body tense and pull away at the indifference and she growled lowly, pulling at the other woman's hips until they were face to face. "Tell them, my love. But be prepared. You know how they feel about me…" Mona sighed as she spoke, knowing that her lover would never be happy with anything other than a direct response. "They hate me."

"They don't hate you…They're not as angry as you thought they'd be."

"_You _don't hate me. _You're_ not as angry as I thought you'd be." Mona dragged her eyes away from the curves of her lover's body, greed solidifying in her stomach until it felt as though she'd eaten metal bars. "It doesn't change the fact that I've tried to kill you all more than once. I'd certainly think twice before trusting me. Which reminds me… are you sure you want this, my love? You could always say no, no need to feel sorry for me." Sweet poison coated her tongue as the brunette beside her slipped past her defenses, drinking her very soul from her until she was sure there was nothing left to take.

"I want this," it sounded so sure coming from the other's mouth that Mona could have died of ecstasy. Addictive. "I want you." Mona groaned as a slim hand slipped between her thighs, scratching softly at the tender flesh. "I need you." This was reality. Mona felt wanted. Mona felt loved. She forced her eyes open as her fiancée brought her lips crashing down to the everlasting pout. Gorgeous. Mona bit down as a finger entered her without warning, the sugar-coated metallic tang of blood painting her own mouth a pretty red. Vermillion looked good spilling from Emily Fields.

* * *

_Present day…_

The streets are darkened and dangerous in the earliest hours of morning, only a sole streetlight blinking dimly to remind the residents of their neighbourhood that such a thing exists. Mona glides a hand towards her wife's side of the bed, only to be met with empty space. Emily is away, her annual business trip out of the hellhole of Rosewood, Pennsylvania having been scheduled for this week and the next. Mona sighs and pulls the blankets more tightly around her body, cursing the draft of air from the opened window. The opened window? But they never… "Good morning, Mona." Mona leaps from her own bed as if stung, furious that she'd not noticed the familiar – unwelcome, but familiar – scent of perfume that's permeated every inch of her bedroom.

"What do you want?" She asks but she already knows the answer. There's only one thing that Alison ever wants from her, and she takes it every single time she's here. As the blonde moves closer towards her Mona turns her face away and closes her eyes, knowing that Ali prefers things this way. It will be over sooner if she doesn't resist. The other woman is pinning her down now, sharp teeth latching onto sensitive flesh. A small popping sound signals the breaking of skin and Mona's eyes fly wide open. She slides out from under Alison's body and pushes the other woman, straddling tan thighs when she climbs back onto the mattress. She pushes down on the blonde's chest with one hand as the other pins two newly-manicured hands together over angel-hair. "No marking DiLaurentis. I'm sure I've told you that before." Alison growls at the shorter woman's dominance and uses her legs to roll them over, knowing full well that Mona won't try to resist it.

"You're _mine, _Vanderwaal… or do you prefer Fields?" Mona wants to spit into the cold blue eyes above her but she can't. She can't even as those harsh eyes hover inches from her own and those animal-sharp teeth are drawing the blood from her lips. Alison giggles. It's a perverse corruption of innocence as the sounds bounce off the walls. "Regardless, you're mine. _Your wife_ is mine. Everything in Rosewood, living or not, all of that is mine… I'm sure I've told you that before." Alison sneers at Mona and in the dim light the normally gorgeous face is grotesque and unnatural, a thin line of Mona's blood falling from her cruel teeth. Mona jams her eyes shut as the woman above her violates her body, fingers scratching out abuse on her inner thighs and walls with vindictive malice. It hurts more than it had last time – last time she'd kept her fucking mouth shut – but Mona bears the pain well knowing that this isn't happening to her Emily. She's only letting this happen to keep her wife safe. Alison is relentless this morning. She doesn't stop until she has Mona in tears but the other woman draws the line at begging and screaming. She won't give the blonde the pleasure because _fuck_ that. Ali will have to rip the words from her throat before she lets them free of her own accord.

* * *

"Mona, sweetheart, I'm home." A week of tears and choked-down screams later and Mona finds her peace in Emily's return. The woman is radiant with sunshine and the air of another, happier place settling around her as she steps through the door. Breaking her normally calmer attitude Mona is in the swimmer's strong arms in three large steps, her face buried into Emily's chest as soon as she feels the arms close around her softly. "Whoa… is everything alright? I wasn't gone for too long." Mona feels her wife's hands close gently around her wounded shoulders and she winces slightly. Alison had tried to beat the desperate pleas out of her once-upon-a-time-anonymous-tormentor. It hadn't worked, but Mona had been so close to breaking that she'd not had the strength to completely nurse herself to health once the blonde had left.

"Every day you're not here means a year's worth of fear," she says when Emily bends down slightly to look directly into sad honey eyes. "I never know when you'll be coming home, _if_ you'll ever be coming home." Mona shudders when she says it, knowing that it's highly possible that one of these days her wife won't be coming home to her. She'll fight to the death to make sure that that doesn't happen, but she's only one person. One highly intelligent person, yes, but she has something precious to lose. Alison on the other hand, doesn't. Emily kisses her softly and it's the first time in two weeks that a kiss was used to show love and not as a tool to bruise her.

"I will always come home to you." She means it, Mona can see, and she's grateful for that because if Emily were to ever leave her she'd… well she'd probably go completely insane. Her sanity is slipping away from her as it is and it's only a matter of time before Emily sees it too. She may leave Mona then, and if she does there will be nothing to stop Alison from taking her and keeping her hidden away from the rest of the world, her personal plaything. The fear of that ever happening is what tethers Mona to reality some nights.

"I love you." Emily smiles and in the heartbreaking beauty of it Mona knows that she isn't the only one to have these feelings. It may have come on as a surprise but Emily loves her too, she clearly loves her. Sweet, impressionable Emily. She'd left the other woman no choice.

"I have a gift for you, by the way. Almost forgot," Emily says. She steps out of the house quickly and the sound of rustling paper is heard from just outside. When the taller brunette steps back into the room she's holding a lovely arrangement of flowers. Purple violets. Mona's eyes brighten at the sight and she plants a thankful kiss on her wife's lips, sniffing delicately at the flowers as they're placed in her hands. Emily thinks that Mona's favourite flowers are purple violets because of the colour, and she's half-right in that assumption. Mostly Mona loves purple violets for what they mean. Faithful love. If Mona is anything, she is faithful to her wife, even when the deranged blonde mayor of Rosewood forces her way into the Fields-Vanderwaal home and renders Mona's body otherwise. Mona's eyes are wet with gratitude. "Hey, no more crying okay? You know I can't stand to see you cry so much."

* * *

_Three years prior…_

"She wants me to leave you… for her." Mona blinked once, twice. "I said no, obviously." Mona didn't even look in Emily's direction. "Mona, can you please say something to me?" She sighed to clear her head as Emily began to unfold herself from her cross-legged position on the floor. They had spent about twenty minutes sorting through pictures for their first album together when Emily finally told her what Alison had said. Mona wasn't angry, but she was far from pleased. Of course Alison DiLaurentis wouldn't give her her happiness. How typical of that blonde bitch. Mona brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them closer to her body.

"You loved her once. More than anything." Emily pushed as close to Mona as she could without hurting her fiancée and cradled the woman in her arms. "If you want to leave me for her, you can."

"Mona, are you insane?" Emily paused, sensing how close the words struck to home. She backtracked. "I love you more than I could have ever loved Alison DiLaurentis and I am _not_ about to up and leave you just because she wants me to."

"You're choosing between Heaven and Hell on Earth here, sweetheart, and unfortunately at the rate you're going you'll end up in the pyres."

"Why do I get the feeling that you want me to choose her? Have I done something to upset you, Mona? Tell me what I've done." Mona shook her head and turned over in Emily's grasp.

"I'm only thinking about what would be best for you." She spoke the truth. Somewhere along the crossed lines of their courtship, Mona had fallen truly and irrevocably in love with her soon-to-be-bride. She was going to lose her. She knew it as she said those words, teary eyes on Emily's and looking without seeing.

"No. I won't be without you. Can't be without you, really. There's a reason I'm still here Mona, even after… everything." It took everything in Mona not to laugh. She was about to wed a saint. Still the tears spilled, refusing to acquiesce to her request for them to dry.

"I love you."

"I love you more. Now don't cry. I hate to see you crying. You're way too strong for tears."

* * *

_Present day…_

It's easy to miss the feel of your lover's arms around you and Mona understands that. She spends the next few days and nights practically drowning her wife in love, half because she wants to for Emily's sake (and half because she needs to for her own sake). It's only when she notices the way that the townies of Rosewood are glaring at them during an outing that Mona realizes she's allowed herself and her wife to become too comfortable. She's become accustomed to the suspicion that growls in her stomach; it usually happens before Ali makes attempts to kidnap her wife, something that took her too long to realize. Mona realizes that the only way to keep her Emily safe is to keep them in the house, where the multiple barricades she's been working on should prove a challenge even for the DiLaurentis woman.

"Mona, sweetheart, what do you think of this?" Emily is gesturing towards a pretty purple fabric, holding it closer to her skin so that Mona can get a better idea of what it would look like as a dress. Mona wants nothing more than to fawn over Emily but Noel Kahn's dangerous eyes are glinting wildly at her from the mirror, indicating his presence only feet away from them. Swallowing her pride and hatred, Mona turns towards her wife and cocks her head aside, much as she used to do while she was _recuperating_ at Radley.

"Who's Mona, my love?" Emily's eyes, so bright and happy only seconds ago, have fallen into the shade of her brow and there are dark shadows dancing in the irises. Worry shadows.

"Mona…"

"Baby have you forgotten me again? This is Ali… Emily are you alright?" Mona wants to hit herself when Emily's downcast face drops to the floor as a shaky hand reaches out to grasp her wrist. Instead she plasters the patented Ali DiLaurentis bitch-out on her face and prays that Emily takes them both home immediately.

"Mo—Ali, sorry honey. I obviously haven't forgotten you, I'm just tired. Of course I'm alright. Uh… let's go home, okay?" The defeat that slumps Emily's shoulders as they make for the parking lot is almost too much for Mona but she holds tightly to the façade she's presented her wife. If Emily thinks she's keeping Mona safe then Mona will be keeping Emily safe. Roundabout solutions are the only thing keeping them alive anymore.

It takes longer than normal for the fervor of the people of Rosewood to die down and Mona is just about ready to slit her own throat. Pretending to be Ali Dee is a loathsome undertaking. Emily is unsettled, moody, and refuses to sleep in their bed. Mona can't blame her wife for the disgusted looks that she shoots her way when Emily thinks that Ali Dee can't see her. She feels like a failure as a wife whenever she does this, really, but then she stops herself. She's doing her duty as Emily's wife even if it doesn't seem like it. All of her love is what's forcing her into this grotesque charade of a life, and it's all to keep Emily safe.

Exactly one week after the incident at the mall Mona decides that she and Emily have had enough. She steps quietly into the sunlit kitchen, upset to find the taller woman scrunched up into a ball on one of their dining chairs, knees cradled in her arms as tears freefall from her eyes. "Emily?" The once-swimmer looks up and her eyes are hopeful even though her lips are a thin line of cynicism. She waits for Mona to speak, doesn't dare address her in fear of being corrected. "Emily, baby I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." Mona's apology is half-genuine. She _is_ sorry, but only because she's probably hurt Emily badly this time. Mona can't fully apologize for wanting to do what will ultimately be best for her dear Mrs. Fields. Emily takes the apology very well, launching herself towards the smaller woman.

"It was so bad this time Mona… I thought I'd lost you for good." Emily's shaky sigh of relief rattles in Mona's conscious for days after that. The dam is close to breaking. She can feel it.

* * *

Ali's smile is cold steel and Mona just wants this to be over. She's kept the Fields-Vanderwaal home safe for years, but now she can do this no longer. The blonde devil has won and Mona can only hope that Emily will not suffer as badly as she fears. Of course, she thinks as her gaze falls onto the blonde's luxurious, bloodstained curls, that is entirely not possible. Her poor, sweet Emily. The real Hell on Earth is here.

"I told you not to test me, Vanderwaal. Look at where this has gotten you. Bound and gagged like an animal, trapped with no way out, and pretty soon you'll be forced to listen as I _fuck_ your precious wife." Mona would honestly prefer to kill herself but she can't. As long as there is a chance to safe Emily, she'll try her best to take it. "Oh, and here she comes now. I hope she's been a good girl and drunk everything Paige has given her." Mona's eyes flare. So McCullers was working with the devil all along? The bitch. Mona tries her best to scream when Alison steps into the pitch-blackness of the adjacent room. It's to no avail. The sounds of sex infiltrate her ears and bring tears to her cheeks. _Emily._

It seems like hours even though at most it's been only one, and Mona watches with hatred-hot eyes as Ali steps back into the bathroom draped in a sheet and glowing with arrogance. "If I'd known how good of a lay she was, I would have taken her from you _much_ sooner." Mona wants to slap the bitch for talking about her wife that way. She can't. She can't do anything, even as the psychotic blonde pulls a knife from underneath her sheet and stands with it poised over Mona. There's something almost demonic about Alison's smirk and it makes the small Asian woman sick. She's going to die. Mona Vanderwaal-Fields is going to die. She contemplates screaming for Emily but realizes that it would break the other woman to see her this way.

Dying isn't half as painful as she'd expected. Yes, the pain is stinging and yes, Mona wishes she had more time. More time to be with her Emily, more time to make her wife happy, more time to keep her wife safe, more time, more time, more time. But this is it, she's done. Emily rushes into the bathroom in time to see Mona's (almost) lifeless form floating listlessly in the tub. She can feel the strong arms of her now widowed lover wrapping around her small frame and Mona wonders why she can still feel if she's dead. Maybe she's not dead _yet_ then? If her eyes still shone with life she knows that her wife's own would be glimmering with hope but since Emily is still sobbing into her wet hair she thinks it's safe to assume that she's wrong. Mona would sigh but she knows it wouldn't get past her pout. She's dead.

"Oh Mona…" Emily's last words to her wife die on her lips but Mona can tell she's upset. It must be the patented DiLaurentis smirk on her face that's caused her to act this way. Mona would apologize if she could, but it isn't like she has any more control. She's gone and cold, and she only wishes that one thing could be different. She wasn't wearing her own smile when the world around her crumbled at her feet. _Fuck you, Alison DiLaurentis._

* * *

**I apologize if this offended anybody, but if you enjoyed it, then my work here is done. I would also like to apologize to anybody who's following Go Get Her, Tiger and/or Knock Her Down. Updates are coming. Follow LazyWriterGirl on Twitter and harass me about it, if you want. Love you guys :)**


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